... but this is the darkness after the stars have died, and we can't remember language ... you carry it here in your open hands, and my breath freezes in my throat, and i am only the ecstatic echo of your black gaze....

merc: perhaps you can see the influence of your paintings and drawings, i struggle to liberate the lines and let them float freely, reaching deep into that realm of archetypes which returns us to the origins of the form. of course, this is almost impossible with photos, but still...